The Potter Secret
by Simone of the Zordiak
Summary: Former Fest entry for the DusktilDawn Fest. In Harry's 5th year at Hogwarts things start to change in unexpected ways and an old secret of the Potter Family is brought to light.


Title: "The Potter Secret"  
  
Author: Simone of the Zordiak  
  
Rating/Codes: PG-13 (fairly harmless, cause the story is simply too short for the sex... maybe in the sequel)  
  
Summary: AU Fifth year, Harry becomes very good in Potions, good enough to become a Potions apprentice, unfortunatly that includes tutoring Neville and when the accidents happens, Professor Snape learn about a secret he'd never suspected Harry to have.  
  
Challenge: 24. One or other of them is a hermaphrodite. How did it happen? How did he keep it hidden? What does the other one make of it when he finds out? (Anonymous) & 167. Snape assigns Harry the uneviable task of tutoring Neville Longbottom in Potions. Unfortunately, Neville brews up something that has quite an interesting effect on Harry and Snape must step in to help. Actually, maybe the accident WAS quite fortunate. (Maddie Eerie) & 10,000 Word Story (without the Header and the *fin*)  
  
Disclaimer: All characters, rights, money, etc. in the Harry Potter Universe belong to JKR and not me.Which means I borrowed them and have them returned after writing this story. (So JKR can pay for their Therapy bills... poor dears all traumatised by me bwuuhahah...)  
  
Note: Part of "From Dusk til Dawn - the Harry Potter/Severus Snape Fuh-Q-Fest" at: . This is for the Third Wave  
  
Beta: Thanks to Starkindler, fastest Beta under the stars, who made sure that my gramma doesn't get too much out of hand. Thanks Star with a chocolatesyrupy Severus on top.  
  
Author put down her tea cup: Attention dear readers, this story has British English spelling and gramma, so if a word looks a bit strange to you, that's the cultural difference and not a spelling mistake.  
  
The Potter Secret  
  
He looked up from the essays he was grading to silently watch the boy adding the boomslang skin and stirring it in a well practised counter clockwise motion. The boy's movements behind a cauldron had improved quite a lot this last year.  
  
Snape sighed tonelessly. If only the boy wasn't a Gryffindor, if only the boy had a different name, a different face. But it wasn't meant to be. The teen that was just now checking the temperature of his potion like a professional, that had clawed his way to the top of his class by sheer determination, was no one other one than the son of his old archrival. Potter, why did it have to be him? Why did he have to be the stubborn one, the one who became good only to 'show' him?  
  
And yet, at the same time he felt an odd sort of pride. His methods, as cruel as they were, were once again dividing future Masters of his art from the mere followers of a recipe. Unfortunately, it looked like Potter would be the one to follow in his footsteps.  
  
The bell rang, to the end of the lesson and he dismissed the class. "Potter." The boy looked up, startled, no doubt wondering what he had done now to displease his teacher. "I need to talk to you in my office, Potter."  
  
The boy followed him, carefully treading behind him like he expected to be attacked in the next moment. Severus sighed mentally. What other reaction should he have expected from the young Gryffindor? After all, was he not the terror and bane of Gryffindor Tower? Especially cruel towards James Potter's little brat?  
  
But how could he have expected that he would have to have this talk with Harry Potter?  
  
He should have remembered that the boy was also Lily's offspring. And Lily had been a genius behind a cauldron, good at Charms too, but if she had lived, she would have been serious competition for him. Well, if she had decided to become a Potions Mistress and not an Auror.  
  
But he had no time now to wallow in old, painful memories, so he send them away, to the back of his mind and sat down behind his desk, taking a last deep breath before he started.  
  
"Sit down, Potter."  
  
He eyed the boy over steepled fingers. Puberty had been good to him. No longer was he a carbon copy of James, but now a tantalising mixture of both his parents. The build of his body was more like Lily's, slim and elegant, his face more of a heart shape and the untameable hair of his, now grown out beneath his shoulder blades, had gained a reddish tint. But it was his mind that had gone through the biggest change of all. He paid attention to his lessons now, he read and prepared himself, and he had become a lot more quiet and thoughtful. If his name hadn't been Potter, if he hadn't been the boy who lived, Severus knew, he would have openly admitted to liking him. But the way things were now, he would have to put on an act for the little spies in his own house and being friendly to Potter could be his death-sentence.  
  
"I have watched you closely this year, Potter, and I couldn't help but notice some positive changes in your behaviour."  
  
The boy rolled his eyes, yet remained silent. Another change... one year ago his temper would have flared up at this remark and would have earned him a detention right now.  
  
"I noticed something else as well. Tell me Potter, why did you stir the Luminaris potion fifteen and a half times clockwise and not fourteen times like it was written in the recipe?"  
  
Potter looked up startled.  
  
"You noticed that?"  
  
"Yes, I did, now answer my question."  
  
"Well, you said that the potion would become a thick jellylike mass that could be cut into cubes after the stirring, but I noticed a slight bit of extra fluid and tried to compensate through a little bit more stirring."  
  
Snape nodded to himself. He had noticed that Potter's potion was the only one who stayed in form after being cut. The boy's answer just told him that he'd made the right decision.  
  
"And can you tell me from where the extra fluid came?"  
  
"My guess would be that the waterlily roots we used were very fresh and had been still soaked with water. If we had used dried roots it wouldn't have happened."  
  
"Correct. Now answer one last question. How did you notice that the potion wasn't thick enough after you had stirred 14 times?"  
  
This was it, the important question. If Potter answered correctly he would take him under his wing and if not, he would have to wait and hope for another year.  
  
"I dunno. It didn't feel right. Like it should be a bit thicker."  
  
There it was. The correct answer. He hadn't noticed it, but now a thick knot seemed to unravel in his chest. It had been so long, five years since he had this particular talk with a student. The last years had been disappointment after disappointment when none of his pupils displayed the markings of a true master of his craft. True, some of his former students had opened apothecaries or brewed potions for the Ministry or other organisations, but none of them had the inborn skill or instinct to become a Master.  
  
"Did you know that you are the only one who noticed the extra fluid?"  
  
He could see the boy's eyes widen slightly as Potter shook his head no.  
  
"Neither your know-it-all friend Granger, nor any of my Slytherins tried to compensate for the fluid. None of them had even noticed it. And do you know why? Because they all just blindly follow the recipe, none of them have a feeling for the true art of potion making . They lack the instinct and they will never reach beyond the level of a simple brewer. You, on the other hand, Potter, have the right instincts. You have developed a feeling for your work and have the determination to finish what you started, which is why I already talked with Albus. If you accept my offer, I'll start giving you extra lessons where you will learn about advanced potions, not the basic things your classmates learn but the real art of potion making. If you accept, you will be allowed to drop either Divination or Astronomy."  
  
With a small sigh he unclasped his hands, then continued.  
  
"I will give you some time to think about it. Now go, Potter."  
  
"Professor?"  
  
"Yes, Potter?"  
  
"I thought.... I mean..."  
  
He heard the unasked question behind the boys stuttering and sighed. Of course he should have expected something like that. After being rather unpleasant to the boy for a bit more than four years, Potter had grown into the habit of questioning his actions. The behaviour he was displaying now was the opposite of his normal, acidic self and the boy was confused.  
  
"I might not like you, Potter, but I really hate a squandered talent. Especially if the talent is as rare as ours is. In the sixteen years that I have already taught here, I only discovered eleven students with the ability to become a Potions Master. Twelve, if I count you, and not all of them decide to do something with their skill. It is such a waste."  
  
*Yes, such a waste* he thought, as the memories of his last, his huge fight with Lily were dragged back to the surface of his mind. She'd wanted to become an Auror, such an over-dramatisized and mostly dangerous job. He'd wanted to keep his best, his only friend with him for a little while longer, had wanted for her to nurture the talent she obviously had. Lily had won the fight, Lily had become an Auror and then Lily had died. End of story.  
  
"...ssor? Professor?"  
  
He blinked as his mind returned to the present. Potter looked at him with the same worried look his mother had used on him. Obviously he had been lost in his thoughts far longer than it had appeared to him.  
  
"Just idle thoughts, Potter. What did you say?"  
  
"I said that I want to go for it and drop Divination."  
  
"Such a quick decision, Potter. Care to tell me why?"  
  
"Well," the boy squirmed a bit under his gaze, but never looked down, "the only thing I learn in Divination is how to write up creative ways for me to die. The visions that I do have don't need to be interpreted, they are always clear to me, but the only time I told Professor Trelawney one of my visions, she took 10 points from Gryffindor for 'such an obvious lie'. That particular vision was proven true three days later when Clearwater Dale was burned to the ground by Death Eaters. So I would rather drop that subject and learn something real."  
  
Severus smirked as he listened to the boy ranting about Trelawney. The stupid cow hated everyone who had true visions and he knew Potter was a Seer. The Order had used his visions several times to prevent attacks, sending Aurors in time to stop the mayhem and sometimes even arresting a Death Eater or two. Voldemort had been furious when he'd reported that the Headmaster used a Seer to predict his moves. He had been put under Cruciatus for some time for that bad news, but at least he was no longer suspected of spying for Albus, since Potter's information had allowed them to stop several raids he had not known about. It had been a test of his loyalty and he had passed, thanks to Potter's visions. And now Trelawney's jealousy knew no bounds. He should thank Sybil for driving the boy into his care.  
  
"Then I'll inform Albus and Professor Trelawney about your change in timetable."  
  
"Thank you, Professor," Potter said and turned to the door.  
  
"Oh, and Potter..."  
  
The boy turned back around.  
  
"Yes, Professor?"  
  
"I think you are aware of your housemate Longbottom's inability to make even the most simplest of potions. Since I have neither the desire to keep him in my classes longer than necessary, nor the time and patience to tutor him, it will be your duty to tutor him. I don't care how much time it will take, just teach him enough to pass my class... otherwise he will fail this year and then I'll be saddled with his ineptness for one extra year. Understood?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
He smirked inwardly as the boy left his office, mentally awarding himself ten points. The day couldn't have gone any better. He'd got a new advanced student, which would allow him to display and teach the true art of potion making, not the simple stuff of the regular students. And he had found the perfect way to get back at Potter, using his own housemate. Longbottom, the greatest bane of his existence, the ultimate insult to his teaching skills and his art. Now Potter would learn how it felt to try to teach his art to a complete dunderhead. The frustration would eat him alive when the little twerp, Longbottom, ruined all his careful prepared ingredients, destroyed his cauldrons and the best thing about it was that he couldn't even complain about it.  
  
Severus silently hummed to himself as he returned to grading the first-year Slytherins' essays... it had been a rather productive day.  
  
*** Three weeks later ***  
  
There were days when everything seemed to be against him, Snape thought as he sat down to eat dinner, glaring at the students that had decided that today they would be especially idiotic little gits. He had lost three cauldrons, one worktable and almost his entire storage of wormwood... a rather expensive ingredient. No, today hadn't been a good day for him.  
  
Unconsciously his eyes wandered to the Gryffindor table, wondering what plan his apprentice had been hatching. Yesterday Harry had mentioned that today he would work on curing Neville's clumsiness. Snape was really interested in how that would work out and just what means the Gryffindor was using. All he knew was that he hadn't seen Harry and Neville the entire day and when he had made a comment about it, Albus had smiled his irritating smile and told him that the boys were in London with their Head of House. But unfortunately, Albus had only smiled his irritating smile and had claimed that he didn't know what they were doing there.  
  
He finally located Harry, who was smiling brightly and talking to Granger and sitting next to him was... Severus suddenly felt the urgent need to bang his head against something hard, the table perhaps or even a nice sturdy wall. He felt rather stupid. It was so obvious now, he should have thought about it years ago, hell anybody else should have done so. But none of them had. For next to Harry, with the biggest, brightest smile he'd ever seen on the boy's face (okay, he admitted it to himself, the first smile he'd ever seen on his face), sat Neville Longbottom, eyes gleaming behind his shiny new glasses.  
  
***  
  
"How did you know?" he asked Harry, for Potter had become Harry sometime during the ecstasy of working with liquid flames and dragonbane, an had taken and filled the place that had been left empty since the day Lily had died.  
  
"What, Neville?" The boy looked up from the vial of phoenix tears he was measuring.  
  
"Yes, of course." Snape replied shortly as he continued to ground the Lapis lazuli into a fine powder.  
  
"I didn't know it. Not really. But I have to go the eye specialist once a year for my check-ups and they have those posters on their walls, describing different conditions and how to recognise them. You simply can't help yourself from looking at them and memorising all the symptoms. When you made me work with him, I looked a bit closer than I normally would and I suspected that he might need glasses, but I wasn't sure. So I talked to Professor Dumbledore about taking him to London to see a specialist and he allowed it, as long as I went with a professor. I send an owl to Hermione's parents and they made me an appointment with an ophthalmologist they know and today we went to have his eyes checked." He stopped to catch his breath and then looked up. "The doctor asked him how he could have lived like that for so long. It turned out that his corneas are badly distorted, enough to warrant surgery when he's a little older. But for now I'm quite happy that he got his glasses. That should cut down on his clumsiness and prevent some of the accidents and I am finally able to work on the real problem." He finished with a flourish, and stirred his cauldron in a figure eight after adding the moonflower petals.  
  
"And what would the real problem be?" The gemstone had been crushed into a fine powder and now the sphinx milk had to be added slowly, to turn it into a paste.  
  
"Why you, Professor." Harry smiled at the glare he received from his mentor.  
  
"Remember Neville's boggart, third year?"  
  
The answering glare was murderous enough to measure up against the deadly stare of a basilisk.  
  
"You are his greatest fear, Professor, something you cultivated over the years. But it is this fear that turns him into a clumsy wreck every time he enters your classroom. His fear paralyses him."  
  
Harry reached for the powdered junshin root before continuing.  
  
"I watched him closely these last weeks, he flinched every time you spoke. Several times he ruined his potions because he was too jumpy and dropped a wrong amount of ingredients into his cauldron, just because you looked at him. And while his fear is good for your image, I think he's tethering on the edge of a nervous breakdown and I fear that it will take quite some time for him to become at least coherent in your presence."  
  
He looked into his silver cauldron with a critical eye, stirred one more time clockwise and then looked back to his silent teacher.  
  
"I am finished, Professor."  
  
Severus stalked over to his workbench and eyed Harry's potion with the experience of a master, but couldn't find any flaws. The potion was shimmering in a liquid silver tone, not unlike the fluid of a Pensieve and was smelling slightly of sandalwood. Perfect.  
  
Now for the last step. With Harry's assistance, he carried the cauldron to the workbench, where he had lined up ten porcelain bowls, each of which contained crushed gemstones, carefully mixed with sphinx milk.  
  
He stopped for a moment to remember a different potion laboratory, a different mentor, when he had been the one to fill the bowls.  
  
Without further words, he handed Harry a silver ladle and Harry, already being taught about the importance of this work, silently started to measure and ladle the fluid into the bowls, while his mentor meditated about the stones that the guild astrologer had chosen for his student.  
  
First the white, the crushed white Topaz, a stone used in protection amulets against harm. Harry could use that. Then the black, the Onyx, the stone of Leo, Harry's birth sign. The stone for grounding and centring, a stone to enhance ones willpower and the ability to recognise ones own strengths. He shared this one with Harry. Then blue, Lapis lazuli, stone of truth and integrity, a symbol for awareness, wisdom and the third eye. Yellow, Heliodor for purity and independence. Green, Emerald, stone of honesty, growth, fidelity and self-discovery. Then red, Ruby, stone of July, Lord of the Gemstones, protector against unhappiness and nightmares, fostering passion, power and leadership. Purple, Amethyst, a powerful protecting stone. The stone of stability, strength and peace. Orange, peach Moonstone, a cleansing stone. Sacred to the moon goddess and used to enhance creativity. Yet he couldn't help but wonder why Harry had been chosen for a Moonstone. He was the first male apprentice with a Moonstone. Normally, this stone was only chosen for females. But the astrologer had insisted and who was he to argue with him? Then brown, Jasper, bringer of good health, courage and wisdom in undertakings involving risks. A perfect stone for the boy who lived. And finally, the element all Potions Masters and Mistresses had in common. The black Opal, stone of mysterious fire and thousand different colours. A stone symbolising the mysteries yet uncovered, sign for the guild members that for every potion they invented, every question answered, ten others were still waiting to be found.  
  
Finally, the last ladle had been emptied over its designated bowl and ten bowls filled with personalised wizarding tattooing ink were standing on the work table, waiting to be used.  
  
Severus sealed the bowls with porcelain lids and sealing spells and then carried them, with Harry's help, to a heavily warded safe he'd hidden in his office. There the ink would be locked in until Christmas, when Harry would gain his first guild sign: the tattoo of a Potions apprentice. If he should choose to become a Potions Master, the tattoo would be expanded to the sign of a Master, the sign he himself wore right below his collarbone. The one mark he would always be proud to bear.  
  
He watched with a proud feeling as Harry cleaned his equipment; this was his apprentice. His to form and teach. Soon to be bearing the mark of their craft. Unfortunately, over all these thoughts, he'd completely forgotten the conversation he'd had with Harry during the last hour.  
  
But that wasn't that bad, it was only about Longbottom after all. Wasn't it?  
  
***  
  
Two weeks later, he wished he'd remembered Harry's explanations about Longbottom's fear. Harry and Neville had been in the Potions classroom for one of Neville's tutoring lessons. They were brewing Ouritsu Yougo, a potion used by many magizoologists to protect themselves against the magical and mundane abilities of the creatures they were studying.  
  
It worked like a salve, being absorbed into the skin and protecting the user for 24 hours from harm.  
  
The potion was very volatile while being brewed. It contained two highly reactive and dangerous ingredients, firstly seven Dragon scales, which were softened in two quarts of water and boiled together with ten grams of the ground eggshell of a Chinese Fireball. Then there where several harmless ingredients: sliced lotus bud, dried hemlock, mugwort, rowan leaves and witch hazel, seven finely diced ikat roots, to bind the violent magic residue of the Dragon scales and then the second dangerous ingredient, three drops of blood of a High Fae (donated), bound with sap of the Ligar tree. Afterwards, there were several other ingredients: shredded bat wings, goat fur, a crushed fang of a coral snake, as well as sixteen scales of a mermaid, but the danger for the brewer was over.  
  
Severus had entered the classroom unnoticed before the boys had even started the potion, but had stayed in the shadows, undetected.  
  
But when Harry had asked Neville to hand him the High Fae blood, when the boy stopped dicing the ikat root and reached to hand him the crystal cup with the High Fae blood, he made the critical mistake. He stepped out from the shadows and called for his apprentice. If he had waited for one more second or had announced himself one second earlier, the disaster would have been avoided, but now the chain reaction had been started and couldn't be stopped anymore.  
  
Neville flinched. The cup with the blood fell out of his hands and into the cauldron.  
  
It was like time had slowed down to a snail's pace. He saw the cup falling into the half-finished potion, the potion without the ikat root, the blood not yet bound with the tree sap. The two most volatile and magical ingredients, unadulterated in a potion that had already been turned into a skin absorbing lotion. The recipe for the ultimate disaster.  
  
And then he saw something else. He saw Harry slitting his wrist with a knife and letting the blood fall into the potion, then pushing at Neville... and then the potion exploded. Neville was out of harm's way; Harry's push had shoved him out of the danger area. But Harry, he had been drenched by the dangerous liquid.  
  
Harry looked down at himself, looked at the dangerous liquid splattered all over him. Then he looked up and his and Severus' eyes meet.  
  
For one short moment time was suspended, as he read the eyes of his apprentice. Harry knew what was about to happen, he could read the fear in him, but there was some desperate hope as well. Hope that everything would turn out for the best.  
  
Then he started to scream.  
  
Severus winced as he heard the wet sounds of skin and flesh being torn apart. Harry's school robe bulged outwards before being torn into shreds by strange looking bony protrusions that were rapidly growing out of his back.  
  
Other rips could be heard and in a short time Harry's robes were only tattered rags, barely covering his still changing form.  
  
That shouldn't have happened. Snape felt confused. The unadulterated magic inhabited in the Scales and Blood should have fried every magical cell in Harry's body, killing him in a second's time, not this... this transformation.  
  
As he watched, helplessly, over his screaming and transforming apprentice, he tried to find out why this was happening. There was something that was nudging at his memories and when the long tail grew out of Harry's spine and the bony protrusions on his back grew into two leathery looking wings, he realised what was bothering him. Harry had let his blood drip into the potion. His blood. The blood of a normal wizard wouldn't have caused such a reaction, but what if...?  
  
'Hermaphroditus magicus' he could remember his old teachers gnarly voice, 'one of the most wondrous magical beings and the symbol of wizardkind's greatest shame. The Hermaphroditus magicus is not a singular race, but single members of all magical races that were born fully functional hermaphrodites. Their body contains the most potent transforming magic. Many a potion for transformation had their blood as an ingredient. The blood of the Hermaphroditus magicus humanis was the main ingredient for the Philosopher's Stone. But wizardkind became too greedy. The last known Hermaphroditus magicus humanis died ca 400 years ago, imprisoned by uncaring alchemists, being raped and repeatedly bled until the poor being's body simply gave up. Shortly afterwards, the Hermaphroditus magicus centauris and the Hermaphroditus magicus draconis suffered a similar fate. The only known hermaphrodites today are the Hermaphroditus magicus unicornis, because the unicorns decided to put a hereditary spell onto themselves to curse anyone who tries to take their blood against their will as well as the Hermaphroditus magicus rattus, because we breed them to keep at least one species of hermaphrodites alive for several potions. Not unlike the Muggle "Dodo", the Hermaphroditus magicus became the symbol for our failures. Our own greed and short-sightedness has robbed us from ever creating several potions that where once known as useful and sometimes lifesaving. The wizarding world made several laws to protect any future hermaphrodites, should one be born again. The Guild of the Potion Masters had issued the law that any Hermaphroditus magicus of an intelligent species should be treated with the highest respect and none of their blood should be taken against their will, for that was what started this mess.'  
  
Hermaphroditus magicus humanis, Harry had to be a hermaphrodite. His blood had to have reacted with the rowan leaves and the sliced lotus bud as well as the Dragon scales and Fae blood, turning the potion from a deadly skin contact poison into a painful but no longer deadly transformation potion. This was the only logical explanation. But how had Harry managed to hide this fact for so long? Even if his stupid Muggle guardians had no idea how to recognise a magical hermaphrodite, the teachers and student of Hogwarts could. Harry was on the Quidditch house team, which meant communal showers after the practices and games, and he would bet that other boys have walked in on Harry showering in the boys' bathroom.  
  
So either Harry was something new and unique or he had more secrets hidden than he had previously thought possible.  
  
Harry's screams had stopped, had become barely audible whimpers. His transformation had slowed down and was obviously coming to an end. Curious, Severus stepped closer to his injured apprentice to find out just what the potion had done to him.  
  
He gasped as he saw just how the potion had transformed him. The Fae blood had made him grow to a hight of 6.5 feet, his ears had grown pointy and the formerly unruly hair was now long and silky. The dragon scales had to come from an Antipodean Opaleye, for Harry's now scaly skin had a slight tint of mother of pearl and the two short stubby horns high on his forehead, framing the infamous scar, were the colour of pearls. His long hair had streaks of mother of pearl-coloured hair mixed into the black, but the most obvious changes were the two large dragon wings on his back as well as the long elegant tail. There might be other changes as well, but right now he had no time to catalogue them all.  
  
He had to bring Harry to the infirmary first. And what of Neville? Severus looked up from his fallen apprentice, looking for the boy that had been so close to dying today. Neville had curled into a foetal ball, whimpering softly and rocking back and forth. The nervous breakdown Harry had prophesied two weeks ago, that Neville would suffer from fear and stress, it had become reality.  
  
Severus could recognise the symptoms from the time he'd studied medical potions under Professor Flemming. The strict professor had taught the young Severus not only the most common medical potions, but also to recognise certain symptoms so he would know which potion should be used in which situations. The young Snape had thought it a waste of time, but the older Severus was quite thankful for his teacher's thorough preparation. He knew he shouldn't touch Neville, for he was the main reason of Neville's stress and would make it only worse for the boy, and he didn't know if touching Harry would be safe right now, so he rushed to the next fireplace, summoning Floo powder as he went and called for Poppy and the Headmaster as fast as he could.  
  
When Albus stepped out of the fireplace, he was back at his apprentice's side, trying to find his pulse, which was much harder now, since Harry's skin seemed to have adopted the abilities of true dragon skin, a natural armour that was light, flexible and nearly indestructible. Snape heard the Headmasters gasp and Poppy's squeak of surprise, but he had no time for his normal wordplays, the situation was too dire.  
  
There! He'd found it.  
  
Harry's pulse was slow and steady, like he was just sleeping. Like nothing had happened at all. But the evidence that something HAD happened was too obvious to hide. Once again his eyes were drawn to Harry's large wings, so fragile looking, but that was an illusion. He tried to remember what his Care of Magical Creatures teacher had told him about dragons. Unlike the enthusiastic half-giant, Professor Kettleburn had been a nervous man with a rather squeaky voice and a unsurpassed fear of dragons. Well, if his left arm had been chewed off by a hungry beast, he would have a healthy respect for those beasts too, but he was drifting and now he needed to concentrate. Dragon bones, he remembered Kettleburn saying, were very light, just like bird bones, but nearly indestructible. Powdered bone was one of the basic ingredients of most unbreakable potions. He would bet all his family fortune that Harry's bones were now nearly unbreakable too. Harry's skin, he had already learned, was as dense as that of a dragon, but he couldn't be so sure about the other aspects of his skin and now wasn't the time to conduct the necessary tests. And anyway, without Harry's consent, he wouldn't even try to test it; he owed his apprentice that much respect.  
  
A quick levitation spell let Harry float in front of him and he turned to Poppy. Her diagnosis confirmed his suspicions about Neville. The boy would have to be send to St Mungo's for one or two weeks to heal. Neville would never find the necessary peace in the school infirmary; he needed a place where not every five minutes a stupid little schoolboy came howling for Madame Pomfrey.  
  
And Harry? He inwardly shook his head. There was nothing the doctors at St Mungo's could do for him. If his teachers were correct, the transformation was irreversible, the magic in the dragon scales and the Fae blood was a higher concentration than the magic in the normal wizard body, which made a retransformation impossible due to magical overload. As his teacher had once told him, one could turn a horse into a unicorn with the right potions, but no unicorn could be turned into a horse. The magical concentration of the unicorn body was so high that every attempt at transforming had to inevitably fail. The only thing that was possible was transforming it into something of an even higher magical concentration. Before the death of the last Hermaphroditus magicus humanis, it had been possible to turn an unicorn into an unicornis draconis, a dragon unicorn (not to be confused with the dracorn, the dark unicorn) or even an unicornis pegasis, a winged type of unicorn. Today these races were so rare that it was forbidden for wizards to even get close to their preserves.  
  
No, Harry was stuck like that and maybe it was better if he had some time to adjust to the changes before the outside world would fall over him like vultures. And they would do it. Harry's transformation was extraordinary and couldn't be hidden. Snape started to think about all the consequences of this one potion explosion while he steered Harry's unconscious form into the direction of the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey was buzzing around her patients like a nervous bumblebee, asking questions and checking the boys' vitals.  
  
When they reached the infirmary, they had a slight problem with getting Harry into the bed, since his wings and tail had to be carefully arranged so that they wouldn't hurt by being laid wrongly. Finally, when both boys had been settled in, it was time to answer some questions. And so Snape told his audience how he'd watched Harry teaching Neville how to brew Ouritsu Yougo, how they had obviously not seen or noticed him watching them. He told about them reaching the time where the ikat root had to be diced and how he'd stepped forward to tell Harry that the fresh roots didn't have to be diced so fine and how Neville froze at hearing his voice. He spoke about the vial of Fae blood slipping out of Neville's hands. But he utterly refused to talk about how Harry had altered the potion from a deadly poison to a painful, but survivable transformation potion. He insisted on talking with Harry first. It was Harry's secret, Harry's decision and he wouldn't take the choice out of his apprentice's hands.  
  
He didn't need to wait for long.  
  
***  
  
He slowly drifted back to consciousness, his ears already filtering out the first bits of conversation. Someone was having an argument, an argument with his mentor. Snape was defending something... him? He was defending his right of privacy? Against Dumbledore? What had happened? In the first moment, Harry was confused, but then the memories of what had happened in the Potions classroom exploded in his mind like a very big and very loud firecracker. Neville, the vial, his knowledge that he couldn't stop, couldn't catch the vial in time. But he had the knife, the knife he had been dicing the roots with and this knife he pulled over his wrist, letting the blood drip into the cauldron, praying that it would be enough. Obviously it had worked and he was still alive.  
  
Harry opened his eyes, which was a hard thing to do, because he felt like each lid weighed a ton. He noticed the difference at once. Instead of the normally blurry and unfocussed world, he could see like he'd never needed glasses. Everything was sharp and focused, but there was a strange kind of mist surrounding certain things. Things that he knew were magical. Then suddenly, as if his body had only noticed now that he was awake, his mind was flooded with pain signals. It was as if he had pulled every single muscle in his body, hell even his hair felt sore!  
  
He groaned and the argument he was listening to came to an abrupt stop.  
  
"Harry?" He reopened his eyes, which had closed when the pain had hit him, when he heard the curiously concerned voice of his mentor.  
  
"Professor?"  
  
"How do you feel, Harry?"  
  
"Like a big Horntail stomped over me several times, jumped on my spine, used my entrails as jumping rope and played Ping-Pong with my brain."  
  
Snape winced. "Nice visual."  
  
"Professor, what happened after the potion blew up? I can't remember much, only pain."  
  
It was only for the fracture of a second, but he could see the emotions flashing over his normally so guarded mentor's face. Something big had to have happened to breach his barriers. But what?  
  
"Do you know what you are? What you can do?"  
  
He understood and automatically he raised all his defences. His secret seemed to be out, but he would defend himself to the last.  
  
"Of course I know it, Professor. The question is, what do you know and who will you tell?"  
  
Snape could see the defences snapping up in Harry's face, and he knew he had to be honest or he would lose all the respect and the rapport he had built up with Harry since the beginning of Harry's fifth year.  
  
"Without your permission I'll tell no one. But you have to know that they will find out about it, as soon as they analyse the rest of the potion. Your magical signature is in your blood and your blood is in the potion. It won't take a genius to find out the truth."  
  
Harry sighed and his face grew blank. Of course, he should have known this, but he had had only the fracture of a second to decide when the vial fell and he had to decide to live or to die. In that moment he had chosen to live and now he had to face the consequences.  
  
He looked up and saw that Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore were standing next to his bed, listening to them as well.  
  
"I'll tell you, but only if you swear an oath not to tell anyone without my permission and only behind a veil of silence."  
  
Harry watched as the three adults looked at each other. They realised very quickly that he was serious and with Snape in the lead, they swore a wizard oath not to unveil his secret without his permission. Dumbledore erected the veil of silence.  
  
He took one last breath and then he began.  
  
"The last known Hermaphroditus magicus humanis was of Aztecan birth, a priest of the hermaphroditic creator deity Omeoteotl. The name of the priest was Two Mirror Face. 400 years ago he was captured by a man that wanted to create a Philosopher's Stone. He and several others began to take Two Mirror Face's blood against the priest's will. The blood didn't work and the men began to torture and beat the hermaphrodite and some of them raped him. Two Mirror Face died, miscarrying the child, and only then di they realise that the priest had been the last of the Hermaphroditus magicus humanis. So, still trying to create the legendary Philosopher's Stone, they did the same with several other races of hermaphrodites. That is common knowledge.  
  
"What is not known is that three years after Two Mirror Face's death, Esmeralda Victoria Potter gave birth to Wilhelm Alexander Potter, who also could have been called Wilhelmina Alexandria Potter, for the child was a hermaphrodite. Three years after the gruesome death of Two Mirror Face the parents of Wilhelm wanted to protect their child as best as possible. The father, Henry Albert Potter was a spellmaker, an inventor of new spells. He worked for several months to invent a spell to protect his child. The first spell he came up with was a type of bloodglamourie. The blood of the hermaphrodite was used to conceal the signs of one of the two genders. The to-be-concealed gender was chosen beforehand and the spell had to be redone every 20 years. The child was told about its hermaphroditic nature before it was accepted into a wizarding school. Since the child of a hermaphrodite is always a hermaphrodite too, it became a tradition in the Potter Family. Of course the Potters heard about the laws to protect hermaphrodites, but while most Potters and their spouses were brave and trusting Gryffindors, they weren't stupid either. They knew there would always be greedy people who would try to exploit, try to lay claim on an unprotected hermaphrodite. All someone had to do was to kill the parents and take the child as his ward and he would have a hermaphrodite at his beck and call. No, the Potters didn't trust the Ministry. Not one bit. And then there were those Dark Lords that seemed to pop up from time to time, which one of them wouldn't have dreamed of achieving immortality? We have seen so in my first years when Voldemort went after the flawed stone of Flamel. Some of the Potters were so paranoid that they faked their deaths, reversed the bloodglamourie and lived under a different name and as the opposite gender to not be discovered. I have several living relatives in the wizarding world, but none under the Potter name and to contact them, I would have to unveil my secret and theirs as well. I would love to go live with them, but to do so, I would endanger not only me but them as well, and every child they have as well as those to be born in the future.  
  
"I learned about all of this in the weeks before my third year. When I accidentally blew up my aunt Marge and went to live at the Leaky Cauldron for a while, I took the time to explore the Potter Vault at Gringotts. My parents, before they went into hiding, arranged everything, in case they didn't survive. I found several books and letters they left for me. Most important was a book that has some similarities with Tom Riddle's diary. Wilhelm Potter, the first Potter hermaphrodite, invented the book and added the first page to it. Since then, each Potter has added one page to the book. Every page holds the memory of one member of the Potter Family, to talk and teach their descendants. My parents added their pages the day before the Fidelius charm was cast. Unfortunately, the memories of my parents didn't know about the switch of Secret-Keepers, or third year would have been different."  
  
Harry shook his head and sighed.  
  
"And now everything will change just because of one single potions accident. Are you sure that I can't hide it any longer?"  
  
His mentor simply conjured a mirror with a flick of his wand and handed it to him.  
  
"I'm afraid that this can't be hidden for long, Harry. The Potions lab was sealed by an automatic sealing spell to preserve all evidence in case of an investigation and trust me, when they see what happened to you, they will send their top Aurors to turn everything upside down and inside out."  
  
"Shit!" Harry half squeaked as he saw his reflection. His hands flew up to his ears, feeling the points, then he tried to reach backwards to touch one of his wings.  
  
"It is all real!" He breathed. Then he turned to his mentor.  
  
"Is it permanent?"  
  
"As far as I can assume, yes. The magical concentration in both dragon and High Fae is higher than that of a human wizard, even if that wizard is a hermaphrodite. Because of that, the body will resist any attempts at re-transforming into the previous shape, because then the magic stored in your cells would have too high a concentration, which would result in an overloading and burning out of your magical cells. Your body's magic is protecting itself and there is nothing we can do against it."  
  
"And Fae blood destroys any glamour not based on blood," Harry voiced his thoughts. "Which means that there is no way for me to hide this, except if I decide to become a hermit in the next few hours before the Aurors come and I can't do that because of Voldemort."  
  
"When the Potion Master of the Auror division analyses the rest of the potion, your secret will be discovered. The laws surrounding the discovery of a hermaphrodite are straightforward. You will be asked to come to the Ministry, where it is officially stated that you are a Hermaphroditus magicus. The sigil of the dual gender will be added to your official documents and certain statements will be recorded to ensure your protection in any situation. Then you will be led into the Hall of Records. With the help of a keluarga pohon stone, your entire family tree will be drawn up and each living member of your family will gain a certain sigil behind their names, marking them as the honoured family of the honoured hermaphrodite. The stone will mark every person of the family with their true gender, so if there are more hermaphrodites in your living family, I would warn them now, so that they are prepared."  
  
Harry nodded. "I'll do so. Thank you, Professor."  
  
He watched as the adults left the infirmary and when he was absolutely sure that they were gone, he summoned Dobby to get him parchment, ink and a quill, as well as the official Potter Family seal he kept in his trunk for emergencies. This was an emergency, and as soon as he received the parchment and quill he started to write.  
  
***  
  
Albus Dumbledore settled down in his favourite chair, his mind still on the astonishing confession he'd just listened to. Never, never in all his years had he expected something like this! He'd gone to school with John and Zachary Potter, had taught Timotheus, Hadrian and Andreas Potter in Transfiguration, had already been the Headmaster when James came to Hogwarts and moved through his years, and then Harry has come here too and still they all had managed to conceal this secret for so long!  
  
Albus thought about 400 years of hiding, 400 years of keeping a secret, of fearing to be used just because of what they were, of their gender. He thought about Alban Godfrey Potter, who invented the first male pregnancy spell 250 years ago, thus making same-sex relationships fully equal to the normal marriage and he'd had given birth to Arthur St John Potter. If he had been a hermaphrodite he hadn't needed the spell for himself, but to hide behind its existence to fulfil his wish for children with the man he loved. And he thought about Hadrian and Timotheus, who had vanished some time after finishing their education. The wizarding world assumed them to be dead, but now he thought about Harry's words, how some Potters created other identities, switched their genders and lived their lives far away from the burden of the Potter name. Maybe the two had done the same. Harry had mentioned that he had living wizard relatives, so the assumption wasn't too farfetched.  
  
"Headmaster?"  
  
He looked up, ripped out of his thoughts, to see Severus leaning against his desk. It was normally rather hard to read his body language, but right now he radiated confusion and concern.  
  
"I'm sorry, Severus, what did you say?"  
  
"I wanted to know what we will do now, Headmaster. We promised not to tell anyone, but when the Ministry finds out, the entire wizarding world will find out! Harry and his other relatives must be informed and prepared before the Ministry invades their lives!"  
  
"You are right, Severus."  
  
He turned to his dozing familiar.  
  
"Fawkes?"  
  
The phoenix warbled questioningly.  
  
"Could you go to young Harry and deliver his mail? It is very important that those letters are delivered before the Aurors come."  
  
Fawkes trilled and vanished in a cloud of red and golden flames.  
  
"We need to talk with Harry's entire living wizarding family, about how to protect them and how to work with the discovery of two or maybe even more hermaphrodites. Also, we need to work out how to tell the other students. Many of them don't know the historical meaning of this discovery. And I don't think that Professor Binns will be able to properly explain it."  
  
Severus snorted.  
  
"And then we also need to explain Harry's new appearance. If I understood you correctly, then there is now way to either reverse or to hide his new outlook."  
  
"That is correct, Albus. His own body would fight against re-transforming into his old form, it is a form of automatic magical self-protection, something like the accidental magic young children do in dangerous situations. The anti-glamourie magic, inborn in all beings of Fae descent would negate all cosmetic spells one could have used to disguise him. It is a fact that even children, whose blood is so diluted that the Fae aspect is almost bred out of the family line, can't use glamourie. And Harry's body is now more than a third of Fae nature. The added height and the pointed ears let me assume that in the eyes of the Fae he is at least a half-breed. That reminds me, we need to find out what he can do with his new body."  
  
Severus stopped for a moment and Albus could see the sharp mind working behind eyes of the darkest black. It was in moments like this when Dumbledore could see the boys mother in the son. Alessandra Rothschild-Romanov had been one of the brightest Ravenclaw he had taught.  
  
"I already found out that his skin is as dense as dragon-hide now. What I don't know is if it is strong enough to withhold sharpened instruments or is as fire- and acid-resistant as that of a true dragon. He has wings now, but can he fly? I want Poppy to do a throughout check-up on him. She will have to go through all the tests for a human and a Fae and has to look out for specific dragon characteristics. I especially want her to look for ignis glands in either his nose or left and right along his throat. Also, I want her to check his blood for magus crystallinus bodies. And his eyes must be looked over very thoroughly and carefully, both the Antipodean Opaleye and the High Fae are famous for their special abilities concerning their eyes...."  
  
Poppy was jotting down notes, nodding now and then. Albus really loved watching the two working together. They were such a good team, mediwitch and Potion Master.  
  
"... and as soon as the room is unsealed, I'll go and fetch some of the remaining potion and try to double Harry's result with some test mice I have. If the mice change like Harry, then I will test them for their magical resistance. You know that the Fae are immune to certain spells, including the three Unforgivables. For this I will need your permission to use the shielded DADA classroom, Albus, since I don't want to be arrested for illicit spellcasting."  
  
Dumbledore nodded his consent and started searching his desk for his favourite quill to write the necessary notes. A little bit of digging and he found himself a swan-feather quill. With his best handwriting, he wrote down the pass that would give Severus the rights to use the shielded room for as long as he needed it. Professor Trepes wasn't teaching about the Unforgivables right now, so he could use another room for a while.  
  
"And then there is something else. I am going to ask Harry to allow me to tell his secret to the Potion Master Guild. The laws of the guild are stricter than that of any Ministry and we can protect him much better. He already gave his consent to take on the tattoo of a Potions apprentice and the ink has already been made. That means that he will be looked at as one of our own and we always protect ourselves. Maybe, if we manage to duplicate the potion without some of the side effects, he will be taken in as a Master instead of an apprentice."  
  
"Are you sure, Severus?"  
  
"Of course I am. The inventor of the Draught of Living Death, Valius Lethargus, was self-taught and never apprenticed to a Potion Master, but he did invent the most potent sleeping draught and for his work was taken in into the guild as a Potion Master, and there are several other examples I could list..."  
  
"I don't mean it that way, Severus." Albus interrupted him, a smile on his lips. Severus was normally a very controlled person, but right now he looked like an angry hedgehog, all bristled and ready to defend his guild.  
  
"I will admit that I don't know much about the guild, their laws and ways of protection. What I wanted to know is if they really can protect him better than the Ministry."  
  
"They can." Severus answered flatly.  
  
"If I had been a Potion Master and not an apprentice, Voldemort wouldn't have even thought about initiating me. The last time someone tried to force a Potion Master to do something against his will was nearly 1200 years ago, when the Family of Viperus Vindictus was abducted, to force him into the service of the Dark Witch Bellamorte. It didn't take the Guild more then a month's time to destroy her entire army. They caught her and punished her by draining every last bit of happiness and joy from her, thus turning her into the first Dementor. Bellamorte was one of the most beautiful women of that time; she searched for immortality to preserve her beauty. As the Dementorqueen she has immortality, being the only Dementor that can't be killed, but her beauty had been reversed into the opposite. And Bellamorte knows this, for she is the only Dementor with eyes."  
  
Albus couldn't suppress a shudder at that thought, a human being turned into the most feared and hated magical creature there was.  
  
"Her punishment was witnessed by several chronists and is well documented. In the books that seriously teach about the Dark Arts, the first chapter always is a warning to not tangle with the Potion Master Guild, lest you end up like Bellamorte. Since that day every Dark Lord or Dark Witch has stayed away from the guild as far as they could. Even the most insane ones were afraid of them. If the guild decides to initiate him early, he would be protected from a lot of Dark elements in our society. The reputation alone will make them stay away."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. He could understand very well why someone would try to not anger a guild that powerful. Severus was right; the guild would protect Harry better than the Ministry. It was true, Fudge and the Ministry had went through some changes since that Umbridge woman had been arrested during Harry's hearing after she had started screaming that it would have been better if her Dementors had managed to suck out Harry's soul. That had caused quite an uproar in the wizgamot. Dolores Umbridge had been sentenced to life in Azkaban and the laws about underage magic had been changed to allow magic in the case of self-defence. That hadn't been a good day for Fudge and his supporters. Fudge had lost some of his footing with several important wizarding families and the papers had started to question his decisions. The finding of a hermaphrodite he could use to regain his status, even if the hermaphrodite in question was Harry Potter, the biggest thorn in Fudge's side. Maybe it was better if Harry had additional protection by a powerful and well-known guild. Fudge would think twice about using Harry for his own causes, if Harry had the backing of the guild.  
  
"You can ask him, of course. But the decision must be his alone."  
  
"Of course, Headmaster." Severus stood and walked out of his office, followed shortly by Poppy, who was muttering to herself about the tests that she would have to conduct.  
  
Albus remained sitting at his desk, allowing the whirring, clicking noises of his office to calm his furious working mind. Today had been full of surprises and what he had learned today would change the wizarding world tomorrow. For better or the worse, that remained to be seen, but he had a feeling that the side of the light had gained a lot of ground today.  
  
***  
  
Harry had just finished sealing the last letter and sent off Fawkes, when Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape re-entered the infirmary.  
  
It was a bit weird when his mentor went all formal and asked for his permission to tell the Potion Master Guild about his secret. At first Harry had wanted to say no, but he had stopped to think about it in the last minute. The secret would come out, there was no doubt, so wouldn't it be better to have a good solid basis behind him? Snape had taught him about the laws of the guild, what happened to the lawbreakers and Harry could understand why even Voldemort had never tried to alienate the guild.  
  
Then the professor mentioned the potion and the possibility for Harry to achieve a full membership by perfecting and patenting it. Harry wasn't so happy to talk about the potion, it had really hurt and was really dangerous and it could be misused in countless ways. But, as Snape pointed out, that could happen with any potion and if he patented it, he could pass certain restrictions on it, like not giving out the recipe, saying that it could only be made by a hermaphrodite and that those who wanted to use it on themselves had to manage to solve several tests. Harry could agree with those conditions. They would keep the possibility for abuse to a minimum. With the knowledge his ancestors had collected about the properties of hermaphrodite blood backing him up, he suggested several small changes that would make the potion more stable. Also he suggested adding sliced Adder's Tongue, Job's Tears and crushed Fennel to dampen the pain of the transformation.  
  
Professor Snape thanked him for his permission, jotted down the suggested changes and then hurried away to send a fast owl to the guild. Harry wasn't  
  
stupid. He knew Snape would gain some attention for bringing a hermaphrodite into the fold of the guild, but he couldn't feel any anger about the fact that he was used that way, the professor deserved some kind of attention. And if he managed to get him into the guild, then he would be protected from greedy and amoral people. A big plus in his eyes.  
  
As soon as the professor left the infirmary, Poppy Pomfrey was there, heaping test up on test on him, to find out what his new form was able to do. Harry sighed as he spread his wings out as far as he could, so that she  
  
could check his wingbones, then he had to force himself to sit still when her fingers ghosted over his fragile looking wings, for he learned really fast that he was ticklish there.  
  
She stuck her wand down his throat, she looked in his eyes using strange contraptions, she took his blood, a very tiny bit of his skin and cut off a stand of his hair and she made him feel very foolish as she made him wave his tail at her.  
  
Finally Madame Pomfrey was satisfied with her tests, but he had the feeling that she would come back later to test him some more, as soon as she had thought up some more tests to torture him with.  
  
Harry crossed his hands behind his head, fanning out his wings and refolding them to cover him like a blanket. He looked up to the ceiling, thinking about all the things that had happened today and how it would affect everything in the future.  
  
He epecially thought about a certain letter that should have already been delivered.  
  
***  
  
In a white, splendours manor, a red and golden phoenix was delivering his last message. The lord of the manor, who had been sitting at his desk in his study when the phoenix appeared, had just broken the seal, wondering what the boy could want or had done that it needed such an official letter.  
  
Hastily his eyes ran over the lines. He cursed.  
  
Then he called a house-elf to bring him his best everyday robes. It was time to find out what really happened and there was only one way to do so.  
  
He Apperated. To Hogwarts.  
  
***fin*** 


End file.
